


Family Threat

by WhumpTown



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Brightwell, Brightwell as Parents, DadMalcolm, F/M, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Malcolm Bright Kills Someone, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump, MomDani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22888879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: Brightwell as parents
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	Family Threat

**Author's Note:**

> I saw some posts where you guys were talking about how Malcolm is baby and he could never be a murderer. Yes, Malcolm is baby but my boy is also a badass. So, my brain made this snazzy little thing... enjoy

She moves around their apartment in a shirt. It’s the shirt he wore the night before under his dress shirt. It hugs her breast, his chest much smaller than hers, and it causes the bottom of the snug shirt to rise just where her underwear ends. His eyes track her slowly moving around. Watching as she lazily gathers the clothes they threw on the floor and places them in the bin that goes to the professional cleaner. She takes her time before climbing back into bed with him, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing her cold toes into his thigh.

“I’m pregnant.”

He’s… confused. They talked about having kids, coming to the conclusion that waiting for marriage would disrupt their lives the least. It has been nearly a year, now, since they exchanged vows officiated things. They were by no means being careful. Malcolm could think of several times in the past month that Dani told him even to bother. They weren’t necessarily trying either.

“Okay.” 

She’s freaking out. She knows, logically, Malcolm is here for the long ride. He wouldn’t leave her pregnant with his child, hell, he wouldn’t leave her if it were someone else’s. She also knows, he’s terrified of fathering a child. “Okay? That's it?” Right now, just that single thought about his fears is overpowering her logic. 

But he’s not sure what else he is supposed to say. They had the baby conversation, they knew Malcolm is most likely infertile from the anxiety and stress he puts himself under, not to mention the amount of medicine he took through puberty, most of which have been recalled. Their jobs are high stake, unfair and unfit for a child. It’s simply not ideal. 

Deep down, he’s excited. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to feel this way or even allowed to. “I…” there are a thousand thoughts running through his head. He’s beyond happy with the thought of becoming a father. He’s always had paternal instincts but he’s buried them for as he can remember. He’s not the dad type. He can’t be a dad not when he can’t sleep through the night. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

She sits up, untangling her limbs from his. She brushes her hair from her face and breathes a sigh through her nose. He turns over in bed too, tilting his head as she watches her anxiously run her hands through her hair. 

“I love you.” He’s not sure if its the right thing to say but he sits up and pulls her until she’s sitting practically in his lap. He kisses her softly, tender versus sexually. “You’re going to be a fantastic mother,” he brushes her hair behind her ear. “I have no doubt in my mind of that.”

She leans back against him, sighing as he lays back and lets her shift herself until her head is on his chest and his fingers are working through her hair. “You think we can do this,” she asks, lazily drawing shapes on his skin. She looks up at him, attempting to gauge his answer before he says it.

He hums, as he thinks, sighing to clear his mind. He distractedly runs his hands through her hair a few more times, deep in thought. She knows he’s thinking about his own father, the damage and genetics that Malcolm threatens to bring into this new life they have created. “I don’t know,” he decides. 

She found her own answer in him. 

A lot of his old habits remained but there was a silent shift in him. The visits to his father came to a crashing halt, he refused to let his father into his child’s life. So he became the wall and severed the connection. There was an immediate change in Malcolm in the span of a month. He gained five pounds and slept almost a whole extra hour every week. 

He ate when she gave him food and she learned to moderate this newfound power. He could stomach a decent meal a day but pushing for two would end in exhaustion and frustration for both of them. 

He nursed her through morning sickness, making an awful experience manageable with his insight. Ginger smoothies with banana, saltine crackers and ginger ale, and so many different recipes she couldn’t keep them straight. More important than his cooking, his soft hugs, or the tender way he brushed her hair from her face: she fell more in love with him. He tried, he always had for her, but now he was trying for a child he didn’t even know. He wanted to be a better person and before her eyes he was. 

“What in the world are you doing?”

He jumps at the sudden intrusion, the paintbrush in his hand sending a splash of yellow paint over his shoulder. He sighs exaggeratedly, paint-covered hand going to his chest,” you almost scared me to death, Dani!” He gets up slowly, uncurling his legs from where he had tucked them underneath his body as he worked. He motions with his hands to the walls,” what does it look like I’m doing?”

Dani takes in the mess and decides his sweet smile isn’t worth a sarcastic comment. “Mal, this is your office,” her eyes swell with tears at the sight of that goofy smile. His eyes bright, eyes she hopes their unborn child acquire. “You’re gonna-” her breath catches in her chest and a hot tear slips down her cheek. 

He climbs around the desk he pushed to the middle of the floor. Pulling her into his arms, no doubt spreading yellow paint on her, and squeezes her tight. “I figured yellow would work the best, right? It works for a girl or a boy.” He takes her hand, pulling her further into the room as he speaks. “Hear me out, I can move my office downstairs. That means the baby will be closer and we’ll never have to worry about the baby seeing any work we bring home.”

She watches him, hardly hearing the words that leave his mouth in an excited jumble. He’s pointing and motioning where he’s going to build the crib and where they can put a dresser and a changing table. She knows, with certainty that he’ll be a fantastic father. He’s already devoted, having painted half his office in bright yellow for his child. “I love you.”

He stops, halfway through a rant about some ankle monitor he saw online that would allow them to see the baby’s vitals throughout the night. He clears his throat, not sure he’d heard her correctly so lost to his rant. “Huh?”

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. She presses a kiss to the inside of his neck,” I said I love you.”

“Oh,” he grins, dopily. “I love you too.”

Things still aren’t magically fixed. 

There are nights that Malcolm waits for her to fall asleep before going to the couch to sleep. She’ll wake up around two in the morning when he’s not pressed against her back. He’s a cuddler and after years of sleeping by his side, she knows when he’s not there. He doesn’t want her to wake him from night terrors anymore. Sometimes, he doesn’t want her to touch him at all. They argue, exchanging small blows at the other’s expense rather than admitting that he feels hopeless and like a threat and she feels alone and useless.

“It’s a girl!”

Malcolm’s covered head to toe in blue scrubs but his face is all that matters. Teary blue eyes smiling as his fist are raised high in the air in triumph. 

JT is the first to move, collecting Malcolm in his arms for a rough bear hug that takes Malcolm off his feet as JT spins them in his blind joy. Gil is right behind him, his hug much softer as hot tears spill from his eyes. The others file in. Jessica and Gil are eager to meet their grandchild. They’re quizzing him on the baby. Asking so many questions but Malcolm wants nothing more than to get back to Dani.

“Easy, dad.” JT holds his niece to his chest, grinning at the protective frown on Malcolm’s face when the baby whines softly. “She’s just getting situated.” A tiny fist wiggles its way out of the blanket the nurse had tucked the baby in. Her fingers fan out and she yawns. “See,” JT moves his body to show Malcolm his now napping newborn. “Perfectly content.”

Their perfectly content newborn grows into a perfectly content toddler. 

“You had better get off Daddy’s bookshelf,” Dani doesn’t even look up from the paperwork she’s powering through. After three years, she’s learned to read her child’s silence. She’s too much like her father and with that knowledge, Dani can gauge if her daughter’s silence is out of despair or mischief. Fortunately, Dani doesn’t encounter much despair in her child. It’s almost always mischief.

The soft thud of Makenzie’s socked feet hitting the floor is all the answer Dani needs to know she was right in her assessment. “If I catch you up there again you’re going to find yourself on the naughty step.” There is nothing that Brights hate more than sitting still and sleeping so the idea of a naughty step, just feet away from her bed, is brilliant. 

Dani gets a soft grunt of annoyance before those little feet take off down the hallway. Thankfully, away from the bookshelf. The front door opens and Dani looks up to confirm their visitor isn’t a serial killer and goes back to her paperwork. “Hey, Mack, Daddy’s home.” Malcolm presses a kiss to her cheek but she’s trying to finish her work and won’t allow him to distract her.

“Daddy!” Makenzie collides with Malcolm’s legs attaching herself like a monkey to his body. 

Dani frowns,” if you’re so excited to see Daddy why don’t you tell him about how you haven’t listened to Mommy all day? Or that you were climbing on his bookshelves again?” She lifts an eyebrow and Makenzie buries her face in Malcolm’s pants. She sighs and runs a hand through her daughter’s hair. “I am going to drive downtown and drop this off to Gil,” she motions to the paperwork on the counter. “Can you-”

“-give bathtime and wind her down for b-e-d-t-i-m-e?” Malcolm grins down at his daughter, knowing he’s deceived her by spelling out her least favorite time of the day. It’s only a matter of time before she figures out this little trick, as she had figured out what n-a-p meant two weeks before.

Dani nods and gathers her papers up. She doesn’t tell him enough but she appreciates him immensely. Other women give up their careers to be a mother, they’re forced too because their husband’s careers are more important. Not Dani and Malcolm. He wouldn’t let her, for starters, and he doesn’t value himself more than her. “Hey,” Malcolm turns halfway down the hall with a giggling toddler squirming in his arms. “I love you.”

He grins and attacks Makenzie’s stomach with raspberries. He turns them, never stopping,” say, bye mommy!” Makenzie struggles to get a word out as Malcolm keeps up his assault. His grin is all she needs to know he loves her too. Makenzie’s joy riddled laughter is always an added bonus.

She comes home two hours later. 

“I’m-” she cuts herself off quickly at the sight of the two of them. Malcolm more than eased her down, the two of them are cuddled on the couch down for the count. She walks to the couch, smiling at the identical smirks on their sleeping faces. She presses a kiss to the top of Makenzie’s temple. “Malcolm,” she brushes his hair from his face, softly stirring him from his light sleep. “Let’s go to bed.”

She smiles as Malcolm quietly checks Makenzie over before nodding and gently standing, their daughter cradled to his chest. She has both of their small builds but unlike her father has an endless appetite. 

They both tuck her in, Malcolm rubbing her back until she’s curled around her stuffed toy frog and drooling into her pillow. Another thing she acquired from her father: both the cuddling and the drooling.

“You look exhausted,” she pulls him into bed, smiling when he wraps his wiry frame around her. He hums against her but he’s already lost her hands running through his hair. Dead to the world.

There’s a thud in the living room.

It’s four in the morning but Malcolm’s awake. He’s still wrapped around Dani, pointer finger drawing out words on her skin. He shakes it off as his imagination, he’d rather not deal with hallucinations right now. But the hallway floorboards creek and he knows something is wrong.

Makenzie is an expert escape artist and if she were up he would have heard the clatter of the cabinet door in the kitchen or the crinkle of a pack of gummies. She also knows better than to step on the creaky floorboard outside their room and if she did step on it she would have launched herself into the room by now. 

He reaches into his nightstand, heart in his throat, as his fingers find the two weapons he keeps there. A pocket knife, not the one his father gifted him, and pepper spray. Dani gets the gun and bat. Mostly because if something were to happen, she is the one they would all want up to bat. Not the scrawny Harvard grad with low blood pressure and low blood sugar prone to shakey hands and nearly passing out. 

He opens the bedroom door, glancing back to make sure Dani’s still sleeping. This will all be so much easier to explain if he just hunts his hallucination down by himself. She’s not going to be as forgiving if he brings her on his imaginary manhunt.

“Put the knife down,” a man steps out of Makenzie’s room. He’s dressed in black and Malcolm quickly realizes this isn’t a hallucination. “Come on, man,” the other man says, a taunting edge to his voice. “Don’t make me kill your cute kid. I just want the valuables.” Malcolm can see the lie in his eyes, the way he keeps grinning. 

He’s going to kill them and Malcolm can’t be certain he hasn’t already hurt Makenzie.

“Put it down,” the man sneers and his body tenses. Malcolm can see the glint of a knife in the other man’s hands. “I’ll kill that little brat-”

He doesn’t think, he just lunges.

The knife meets flesh and it’s harder than Malcolm thought it would be. He’s a monster, he reminds himself and pulls the knife out and stabs the man again. He’s not sure how many times he pulls the knife out or even how many times he stabs the man. He just keeps going despite the cries filling the air, he can’t be sure if there his or the man’s. He just knows only one of them can get off this floor and if it’s not him then Dani and Makenzie will die.

He breaks away with a frantic shove, pushing himself away and his back hits the wall hard.

“Daddy?”

Malcolm falls in a tangle of his own limbs. His knees too weak to pick him back up, he remains bent over the unmoving body of the man he just murdered. The bathroom light shines just bright enough to illuminate his daughter standing at the mouth of the hall in her pajamas. Her little pigtails crooked from her rough sleep. Three years worth of kicks to the ribs from her little feet and he knows all too well she has acquired his restless slumber. Mercifully, hers are from an overactive imagination and she’s not haunted by a murderous father.

He thinks he may have just ruined that for her.

“What’s wrong?” Her eyes fall on the knife still clutched in his right hand. He recognizes no fear as she steps towards him. He throws a hand up, stopping her from coming further but she just glances at his bloody palm and keeps coming. “Are you hurt?”

Truthfully, he hasn’t a clue. His body aches with the flooding of hormones in his body but he’s pretty sure none of the blood on him is his own. 

She puts a single hand on his cheek, the same tenderness he always has for her when she’s sick or hurt. “It’s okay,” she reassures him. A tiny finger brushes across the hair growing on his chin. “That bad man can’t hurt you.”

He fails to trap the sob that escapes his throat. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her to his chest as he cries. He spreads the blood and the knife is still clutched in his aching fingers but relief floods him as he feels the living warmth of his daughter.

“M-Malcolm?” Dani steps into the hall, her pistol dropping its aim. They fall limp by her side at what she finds. Her heart sinks low in the pit of her stomach at the sight of her blood-covered, sobbing husband and three-year-old daughter. She knows what he’s done. “Oh, baby.”

She pulls Makenzie to her, shielding her eyes by directing her to Dani’s chest. She shushes her gently when she tries to fight, to get back to her father. “Malcolm,” she whispers, pulling him to her as well. “Give me the knife,” both their eyes lock on the shining metal in his hands. It trembles with his hand, blood trailing down its tip. “Come on, baby,” she soothes, working his tightly wrapped fingers away from the handle. “It’s over.” 

He sobs brokenly, broken blue eyes looking up at her. 

“It’s over,” she comforts him with a single hand trailing over his cheek to the back of his head. “You saved us,” she whispers as she pressed her face to his neck. “You saved us.” She presses a palm to his sides, pressing down when she finds free-flowing blood. “It’s okay.”

The others meet them at the hospital. 

Edrisa takes Makenzie, leading her Goddaughter over to the vending machines to allow the others to discuss Malcolm freely.

Dani is pulled into a group hug, her own tears finally falling in the safety of Gil’s arms. “He-he,” she can’t force the words out as sobs. She closes her eyes and all she can see is Malcolm’s body thrashing on the stretcher. His arms being forced into restraints as his broken voice pleads with them to let him go. “He saved us,” but she’s not sure if he’s condemned himself in the process.

Gil shushes her softly, “he’s okay, Dani.” He cups her tear-stained face in his palms,” it was just a flesh wound. They gave him some Haldol in the E.R. but he’s already burned through it.” He strokes a tear away with his thumb,” you can see him.”

Dani nods and glances at Edrida and Makenzie. She doesn’t want to leave her daughter, even if she is safe. 

“The doctor already cleared it,” Gil says, following her train of thought. “They agreed it would be good for all of you.”

She sees him and she’s gutted. She can’t let Makenzie be afraid though, so she smiles at her daughter. “It’s okay, Mack,” she keeps going even when Makenzie hides her face in Dani’s neck. “It’s just daddy.” Except, the man laying on the bed before them looks nothing like her father. Sure, there’s chestnut brown hair falling just in front of his startling blue eyes but he’s too pale, too still. Makenzie only knows of a man who laughs so hard his breath turns into wheezes and whose body is always moving with energy and love. 

“No mommy,” Makenzie’s grip on Dani’s neck becomes vice-like. Making it clear that she will not be put down. She turns her little body in Dani’s arms, completely removing Malcolm from her line of sight by pressing her face into Dani’s neck.

Dani collapses into the chair by his bed, allowing Makenzie to cower away. She sighs, exhausted and reaches for his still hand. “Fuck, Malcolm.” Her language is excused for the moment, it’s not like Makenzie hasn’t heard them slip up before anyhow. In matters of importance at the moment, Makenzie’s vocabulary isn’t at the top. “You really did it this time.” 

She gently rubs at the bruised skin around his wrist, glad that at least this once the bolded ‘Combative’ note in his charts was overlooked. It’s probably not healthy for a three-year-old to see her father restrained to a hospital bed but then again she already saw the rather combative fight Malcolm had with the EMTs. 

“Hey,” he stirs slightly, moaning and drawing his legs up on the side of his wound. Slowly, he blinks awake. “Malcolm,” she calls, squeezing his hand to get his attention. “Look at me, babe.” He does, sluggishly he turns his head and winces. 

Makenzie pulls just far enough away from Dani’s neck to peak out. “Daddy?” She whispers, regarding him somewhat skeptically. He’s still a little too pale, a little too disoriented. He blinks just right, moving his head and she smiles. She recognizes the sluggish way he draws a hand to his face, scratching at the tip of his nose. She’s seen him do it a thousand times before. “Daddy!”

Dani stops Makenzie from throwing herself at Malcolm, instead slowly lowering their toddler down until she can wrap her arms around Malcolm. 

“Mack,” Malcolm whispers, voice hoarse. He wraps an arm around her. He glances up at Dani, clearing his throat he asks,” they give me Haldol?”

Dani nods,” in the ambulance. I wasn’t there, I’m sorry.”

He squeezes her hand and croaks,” it’s okay.” He clears his throat and this time Dani presses a cup of water to his lips. He thanks her,” Haldol tastes like shit.” She can see the emotion in his smile. He’s not upset she left him in the ambulance to be drugged by unknowing EMTs. 

Makenzie giggles up at him, not entirely used to this version of her loose-lipped parents. They really are careful about what they say around her. 

Dani places the cup back on the table beside him and sighs. It’s seven o’clock in the morning. She pries her body out of the chair, stifling walking until she gets to the light switch. She cuts the lights and walks back to the bed,” get some sleep, you two.”

Makenzie doesn’t have to be told twice, strangely enough, but she can see Malcolm fighting what’s left of the sedatives from earlier. “Come here,” he offers, voice low and hoarse.

“Malcolm there is hardly enough room for you in that bed.”

He frowns and glances down at Makenzie then back at his wife. He shakes his head,” I won’t sleep then.”

“Malcolm-”

“I mean it,” he says stubbornly but can’t stifle the yawn that follows.

She takes one look at him, eyes half-lidded as he fights a losing battle and she can’t say no. “Fine.” It’s a tight fit, the three of them, but Dani maneuvers Makenzie around and pulls Malcolm closer and it works.

“Malcolm?” She whispers, hand finding its way into his soft hair. He hums, too asleep to form words but still present enough to acknowledge her words. “I’m pregnant.” She feels rather than sees the smile on his face. 

“I know.”

She laughs softly, kissing the top of his head. “I love you,” and she means more than ever. She could not fathom loving another human as much as she loves him. That is until they had Makenzie and she learned to love her more. She felt no greater joy than watching Malcolm come alive loving Makenzie and then more when Makenzie looked at her with his eyes and did the most mischievous things. 

“I love you too.”


End file.
